Anderson's Blog
by crisskisses
Summary: Welcome to Anderson's blog! This is where Anderson comes to share his feelings on things like his hatred for Sherlock Holmes, the scandals of Scotland Yard, his complicated relationship with Sally Donovan, and of course, his hatred for Sherlock Holmes.
1. I hate Sherlock Holmes

Disclaimer: Only the plot of this story is my own. I did not play any role in creating Sir Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes or the BBC series it inspired, which is, in fact, what inspired this particular fic. I am extremely grateful for its existence, however, and do on occasion flail over it, as seen below:

*FLAILS*

Chapter updates will vary in length as this is written in a blog format. I hope you enjoy!

_Friday, 10th February_**  
><strong>_9:23 PM_

Hello, dear readers!

I just want to get something straight: I do not like Sherlock Holmes. Some people would say I hate Sherlock Holmes. I am one of those people.

It all started when he, for lack of a better word,_ joined_ Scotland Yard a few years ago. Before then he'd been solving cases somewhere other than London or something, LOOK I DON'T KNOW, I DON'T PAY ATTENTION WHEN HE TALKS! Before Sherlock, I was quite happy in my post, working under Lestrade as a detective inspector. And when I say under Lestrade I don't mean literally under him because that would be really gay. No homo. Anyways, then Sherlock came around and ruined everything!

**-HOW SHERLOCK RUINS THINGS-  
><strong>1. By being bossy all the time.  
>2. Having nice hair. He makes my perfectly acceptable hair looks less nice.<br>3. Getting all excited and jumping about whenever he solves something.  
>4. Making Lestrade listen to him ALL the TIME.<br>5. Being mean to me. No one likes a bully, Sherlock Holmes.  
>6. Causing global warming.<br>7. I don't know how he's doing it, but I know it's his fault.  
>8. No it's not because he's <em>"so hot"<em>, jeez!

As you can see, he has even managed to ruin this list, and deface my precious blog with his bad name. I wouldn't even be writing about him again if there was anything interesting going on in the world of  
>Anderson, but, unfortunately, there isn't.<p>

Not even Sally is proving useful of late, though that could just be because the wife hasn't gone away in a while... I'm sure she'll want another piece of Anderson to savour when the wife's next business trip  
>comes around... Though she was a little put off last time she came round and I tried to take a picture with my phone when we were doing the nasty (Sally, that is, the wife and I don't get up to that<br>anymore). I say "a little put off" loosely for really she was quite angered and threw my phone across the room because of it. I tried to explain the only reason I did it was that you guys were all _"PICS OR  
>IT DIDN'T HAPPEN!1!one!11"<em> in the comments so I felt I had to oblige, but she just didn't listen.

Sadly, because of the whole Sally/phone fiasco, this means I am unable to update during the day (at my lunch break, etc.), but I'm working hard at fixing the problem. Tomorrow I am going to get it fixed at the local Future Shop, so hopefully that works out, unless Sherlock finds a way to RUIN IT. Have I mentioned he ruins everything?


	2. My cats are so lazy

_Saturday, 11th February  
>10:34 AM<em>

Great news! I have a smartphone again! I went to Future Shop and told them all about how my old phone was broken (minus the part about trying to take the naked pictures of Sally) and they replaced it for free! Remind me to send them a fruit basket or something because I love that company. They stay true to their warranty statement, they do. And get this! They even gave me an updated version. Now my phone's camera is HD! Hmm...better not tell Sally about that little tidbit.

*sighs*, This is a good day in the life of Anderson. Typing on my new phone with the free wifi they have outside McDonalds, I am happy as can be. The only thing that would make me happier is if I owned a pet  
>dinosaur, but let's be realistic, I could never afford one of those. Though I do know a guy...<p>

Okay, that's enough for now! I'm going to finish my McGriddle and I'll catch up with you later. But first, a list, because of the great response I got from my last one.

**-THINGS I LOVE-**  
>1. My new phone, it's so shiny.<br>2. McGriddles.  
>3. The fact that Sally still doesn't know I succeeded in taking some of those pictures and harvested the memory card before I handed in my old phone. The card is in my back pocket now. Pics <em>AND<em> it did happen, BOOYA!  
>4. Dinosaurs.<br>5. How nice and sunshiney it is for a winter's day, I am really appreciating nature at the moment.  
>6. Everything.<p>

12:47 PM

I am fuming! I bet you can guess why, I'll give you three options: A) Sherlock Holmes, B) Sherlock Holmes, or C) Sherlock Holmes. Think about your answer for a moment. Mull it over. YOU'RE RIGHT, it was _Sherlock Holmes_.

There I was, having a grand old time, when he decides to trample all over my happiness like a big...trampler. It all started when I went to the shopping center in the heart of town. I had finished my McGriddle in record time and caught the next tube, with Barney in my pocket.

*Note: have decided to call my new phone "Barney".  
>*Another note: Not because of the dinosaur or anything.<br>*A third note: Just because he's in a children's television programme _doesn't mean he discredits the badassery of dinosaurs!_

It was because of Barney that I was going to the shopping center in the first place. I needed to pick up a new phone case. That, and something for the wife for Valentine's day. Maybe a broom or a mop... I  
>don't know, aren't women supposed to like those sorts of things? Now that I think about it, I might have to pick up something for Sally too, and probably something good so she'll still talk to me after the<br>whole picture ordeal. Maybe I'll get her a Swiffer... I hear those are pretty snazzy.

_ANYWAYS_, back to the story. So, I walked into the mall and was soon abducted by one of those sales people who have booths of stuff to sell in the middle of the shopping aisles (you know the ones I'm talking about). Luckily, it wasn't one that was selling hair stuff or beauty stuff or anything absurd like that (I bet Sherlock likes the ones like that) but actually something useful -phone cases!

Here I was thinking it was my lucky day (SHERLOCK RUINS IT SOON, I PROMISE). I picked out a darling green and purple case -perfect for Barney, paid, and was ready to get out of there. I turned around, bag  
>in hand, and made for the exit, but who do I run into...Sherlock Holmes!<p>

Sherlock Holmes. There. In the mall, my mall. The mall I always go to.

"Do watch where you're going, Anderson," he said in his stupid voice, looking down his stupid nose at me. "With a level of poise and balance as low as your own, you'll soon be knocking down the entire mall like a set of dominoes."

I hate him. I_ HATE_ Sherlock Holmes.

Unfortunately, I couldn't come up with a comeback at the time (I hate it when that happens), so I just tried to shove past him. That didn't even work, I bumped into Doctor Watson who was a few paces behind!

"Mind the idiot, John," said Sherlock, tugging Watson out of the way. "He's only here to buy a phone case, and he seems to have already done that so he should be going now,"

I glared at him. "Maybe you're the ones who should be going now, if you know what's good for you!" I retorted. Sherlock looked confused and then laughed. Admittedly, I hadn't known where that threat was going either. "Why are you even here, anyway?" I continued, "Is this some kind of shopping date?"

They both chose to ignore that last comment. Holmes and Watson are _flaming_ homosexuals, even I know that. Everyone seems to know it except for the two of them. And they call me daft.

"Some of us, Anderson, work whenever our talents are needed and not just during the week. Though, since you have neither talent nor drive, I wouldn't expect you to understand,"

Watson looked at me somewhat apologetically from behind Sherlock. He was alright, I guess, and maybe I would be his friend if he wasn't so entangled with Sherlock Holmes. That, and he looked a rather lot like a hedgehog. It was just unsettling.

"So, this is about a case?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

"A minor one," Sherlock sighed. "It should resolve itself soon enough."

I wasn't in the mood to listen to Sherlock's voice, or deal with his presence in general. How long did he spend in the morning tousling his hair to get it _just_ so, it was maddening! "I'm going home," I took the  
>memory card out of my pocket to hold in my hand, or maybe put in the bag, I don't remember my train of thought, but of course Sherlock HAD to comment.<p>

"An SD card?" he asked, and then he turned to John. "It must be from his old phone, too coincidental for the SD card of the previous model of the current phone he holds in his hand to be on his person. But why would he keep the card if the phone was damaged? And why was the phone damaged in the first place? Hmm..." He closed his eyes for a moment (good thing too, his eyes were so bright they could blind the sun, he ought to be issued mandatory eyepatches from the government). "Got it!" the idiot cried. "Now, now Anderson, don't you think it a bit disrespectful to be carrying around compromising pictures of Sally Donovan?"

I gaped at him -how did he figure out that one? Watson looked surprised too. He wasn't as quick as his taller counterpart. Perhaps it had something to do with being part hedgehog.

Before I could do anything to defend myself, Sherlock yanked the memory card out of my hand.

"I'll take that!" he said, annoyingly triumphant.

Now the guy wanted to see the pics of Sally? It was on! "You want to look at them?" I accused.

"I'd rather eat hot coals,"

_Right, because you're gay._

"Then give it back!" I protested, but it was too late. Sherlock threw the card on the floor and crushed it with his suspiciously fashionable boots (what_ straight _man wears designer boots, I ask you?). It was all  
>I could do not to cry as I saw possibly my last remnant of Sally being destroyed on the ground.<p>

And that, my friends, is how Sherlock Holmes _RUINED_ my day. He's a life-ruiner, really. He ruins peoples' lives. And I'm going to get him back for this. Sherlock Holmes will pay.

8:34 PM

To make matters worse I stepped in a rain puddle while walking my cats. _Who_ the _hell_ thinks cats need to be walked anyway? My wife, that's who. I hate rain puddles.

**-THINGS I HATE-  
><strong>1. Puddles, especially of the rain variety.  
>2. When my cats refuse to walk after a while so I have to carry them both home.<br>3. Sherlock.  
>4. When you're eating crisps and watching a film but the crisp bag makes <em>so much noise<em> you can't hear what the characters are saying.  
>5. Sherlock.<br>6. The fact that this morning I had naked pictures of Sally Donovan and now I don't. :(  
>7. Tomorrow is Sunday, and then the next day it's back to Scotland Yard with, you guessed it,<br>8. Sherlock.  
>9. Also everything.<p>

I'm so upset about this Sally thing that all I want to do is eat ice-cream and read my copy of _Eat Pray Love_. Haha. Let's be real here, I don't read. I'll just watch the movie.


	3. Turns out hedgehogs can be violent

_Monday 13th February  
>12:15 PM<em>

What a day and it's only lunch break! For a Monday morning at Scotland Yard, this has been more interesting than most. And yes, I am taking into account the morning we investigated a corpse with a missing eyeball that smelled suspiciously of toast. You see, for someone in the forensics department, such as myself, that kind of stuff just doesn't faze you anymore, *brushes off shoulders*.

No, today's surprise wasn't some palpable body to pick apart, a new and thrilling case, or even a happy announcement that Sherlock was eaten by a rabid armadillo (I for one am still hoping and praying for that day). Instead, it was a proposition from Lestrade. I didn't _exactly_ hear it from Lestrade, but rather through the famous Scotland Yard rumour mill. Specifically from a lad named David, in my division. And let me tell you, it was interesting. It went something like this,

**David**: Did you hear about Lestrade's Valentine's day party?  
><strong>Me<strong>: No...should I have?  
><strong>David<strong>: Oh no, I've only just gotten word. Everyone's invited.  
><strong>Me<strong>: Interesting.  
><strong>David<strong>: Yeah. The only weird thing is that he's throwing it this Friday, and the actual Valentine's Day is tomorrow. Oh well, I guess you can't complain.

I, for one, hadn't known the real Valentine's Day _was_ tomorrow. I knew it was coming up, if you remember my plans of buying gifts for the women in my life (and, for those interested, I did score an amazing deal on the new Swiffer model for Sally), but I never had kept such close tabs on very frivolous holidays. In short, Valentine's Day is for sissies. But I didn't want David, the very epitome of a sissy, to think I wasn't well-versed in the holiday of Valentine's Day, so I just nodded.

A party... I can't remember the last time I went to one of those. I wonder if there will be alcohol involved. If so, maybe I can get Sally to forgive me about the picture and other offenses I've accumulated on her behalf (they're all really long stories, one involving an excited spider monkey, a ridiculous purple coat, and nine gallons of maple syrup... Maybe I'll tell it sometime).

I decided to check with Lestrade to make sure I _truly_ was invited to the party. I mean, it was natural that _anyone_ would want me to come to their get-together, but I did want to clarify, just to be safe. Lestrade said of course I could come (as I predicted), but he seemed a bit steely when I told him about my plans to "collect dem drunk bitches like a stack of baseball cards" (it'll happen). Lestrade probably is just threatened by me. How embarrassing for him to have no hope in seducing the ladies at his own party. I almost feel bad for him. Lestrade is single, I'm pretty sure... I don't even think he has cats. If he has I _must_ schedule a play-date with Mr. Buttons and Avondale (THE WIFE TREATS OUR CATS LIKE CHILDREN, _OKAY?_).

Wow, how did I get to be rambling about my cats and Lestrade? There's more of the conversation to report. I was curious about whether He Who Has Ridiculous Hair (Sherlock) was going to be there.

**Me**: So, everyone from Scotland Yard is invited?  
><strong>Lestrade<strong>: Yeah, and a few others.

My Sherlock-avoiding senses were tingling by then. It did _not_ look good. "Others?" I inquired, trying not to let on that my entire wellbeing at the party, and possibly for the rest of my life, would be determined by his answer.

**Lestrade:** Other people who help us on the cases and such.  
><strong>Me:<strong> So you mean like... Molly?  
><strong>Lestrade (a bit pink in the cheeks):<strong> Yes, I saw it fit to invite her  
>too. But also people who really help on the crime scene...<br>**Me:** Oh, so you mean like Watson.  
><strong>Lestrade:<strong> Yeah, of course him. I think you know who else, Anderson. You know, the person who we couldn't solve 9/10 cases without...  
><strong>Me:<strong> Laura from accounting?  
><strong>Lestrade:<strong> What does Laura from accounting have to do with this?  
><strong>Me:<strong> She does our taxes...  
><strong>Lestrade:<strong> Sure, Laura can come, but we both know that's not who I meant.  
><strong>Me:<strong> Ellen DeGeneres?  
><strong>Lestrade:<strong> No it is not Ellen DeGeneres!  
><strong>Me:<strong>  
><strong>Lestrade:<br>Me:  
>Lestrade:<strong>  
><strong>Me:<strong> It's Sherlock isn't it.  
><strong>Lestrade:<strong> Yes.

!

*Side Note: I was sure Ellen DeGeneres was a shoe-in. Lestrade's being very rude not inviting her.  
>*Second Side Note: Laura from accounting is coming! This could prove quite beneficial if you know what I mean.<p>

I can't believe Sherlock is coming to the party. He's sure to absolutely _RUIN _everything.

_1:17 PM  
><em>  
>Sherlock just burst into the forensics lab. I <em>HATE<em> IT when he does that, all bat-like and mysterious so you just know Bram Stoker's Dracula is a distant relation. Watson's here too, hedgehog-y as ever. The pair of them are both so insufferably annoying, which is probably the reason no one will go out with them and they just shag each other (I strongly suspect).

**-HOW SHERLOCK AND JOHN'S DATES PROBABLY GO-**  
>1. They do something lame and cliché, like bowling.<br>3. Sherlock probably sucks at bowling so John has to help him not be such a fail.  
>4. He probably like<em> guides<em> Sherlock's arm with the bowling ball so he can at least know down a couple of pins, or something equally gay.  
>5. Oh my god... Did I actually just type that? I can feel myself retching.<br>6. Sherlock is then extremely annoying until it's time for them to go out to eat (at some lame restaurant).  
>7. Hopefully the restaurant has hedgehog food for John...<br>8. Sherlock deduces some random crap that no one cares about.  
>9. Ewwwww then they would probably kiss.<br>10. They are gay, totally gay.  
>11. I forgot 2...<p>

I think I'm going to get up and tell them that no one wants them or their rainbow pride at Lestrade's party.

1:33 PM

I did it. This is what I said:

"Sherlock, Doctor Watson, I am speaking on behalf of all of Scotland Yard when I say, you are not welcome in our social circle. Lestrade, at least, appreciates the help you bring when solving crimes, but you will never be welcome at his parties. John, you could be reconsidered if you ditched the vampire. Secondly, we all know you are obsessed with each other so stop pretending otherwise. Oh, and Sherlock, _YOU MAY THINK YOU'RE ALL THAT, BUT YOU'RE NOT!_"

Kidding. That's what I should've said. Here's what I actually said:

"I'm so sorry for the way I've treated you both in the past and would like to offer my arm in friendship (_just_ friendship, you crazy gays). Hopefully we can move on from this stint of unneeded hatred in peace  
>and harmony."<p>

Hahahahahahahahahahahaha! What do you think this is, an after school special? I didn't say that either. What I truly said was this:

"You better not come to Lestrade's V-Day party, you annoying gays!", and then I prodded Sherlock.

I... I cannot say it went over well. John actually shoved me; a _HEDGEHOG_ was _VIOLENT_ with me! This must be a new low.

"We'll come to whatever party we want," he snarled (lol, hedgehog snarl).

"Our attendance is unavoidable," Sherlock continued, and then he sneered at me. "You shouldn't use gay as an insult. Sexuality has no place in put-downs, and it would be far more effective to call someone, I don't know, _an Anderson!_"

John was nodding vigorously. "And, if anyone on the planet actually cares," he added as an afterthought, "I actually_ am_ straight."

Haha. It's so funny when he says that for some reason. Maybe because it's _a COMPLETE LIE_. Needless to say, I am happy to report that Sherlock and John are now leaving. Without them around we can finally get some work done.

4:56 PM

Ughhhh, Sherlock and John are back. Following up on some evidence sample or some other useless thing. They were giggling disgustingly, _giggling!_ Also, they glanced in my direction. They may have won this battle but I'm determined to win the war. Aaaand, I just spilled disinfectant all over me. I hate my life.


End file.
